Who said things were going to get easier?
by Mystiqbard
Summary: Events are in motion after the assassination attempt, and feelings get in the way.
1. Chapter 1

**_Who Said Things Were Going To Get Easier?_**

Disclaimer: The 4400 belong to USA network...

_A/n:_ Since I've only seen the first parts of the second series, this is where it's set. Unfortunately, I haven't seen the rest of the series due to... life, being its usual, annoying, self. If what I'm writing isn't on par with what has happened in the series, forgive me, and consider it AU.

* * *

_Windows Lounge, The Four Seasons Hotel; Los Angeles_

"Johnny Walker, Blue Label, neat." Shawn Farrell told the bartender, lazily bringing out the cash for the order. He looked back over his shoulder, deciding whether or not to take a seat in the throws of the plush couches that littered the bar lounge. He decided against it, slipping into the bar seat at his side and thanking the barman once he'd gotten his drink. He'd been synonymous with fatigue for the past few months, but now, there was a new sensation which plagued his thoughts. Frustration. Months after he and Jordan had exchanged words with regards to his position within the 4400 center, he'd slowly begun to feel more and more controlled, confined. He couldn't make a move without his mentor's approval; any idea was run through him first. Even now, he was at the recent convention by Jordan's request, though whether he had anything significant to contribute while there, was anyone's guess. He took a sip of his drink. After which he wondered when exactly he'd started drinking. He was a pawn on a chess board, nothing more. But, why should he be more? Until almost two years ago, he was still in high school, doing things that most high school students did. He hadn't graduated, hadn't even thought about it until now, so why did he feel he deserved more than where he was now? Shawn tapped the glass, finding that he wasn't getting anywhere with all of the questions... in truth, he hadn't been for a while.

He looked up, and froze at the site across the room and outside.

Without thinking, he took another sip of the scotch whisky blend, suddenly realising there wasn't a drop left. When had he finished it? He ordered another, asking that it be charged to his room. Doubt gripped him as he starred at the back of the statuesque figure, a pure white, floor-length dress barely covering her frame, with an open cut that stopped just short of her derrière. Jet black hair, collected in a clasp at her nape, traveled the length of her back, and glowing, mocha skin completed the palette of colours. Her body ironically mimicked the shape of the champagne glass which she'd set at her side on the balustrade. He ran his knuckles along his lips, finding they were all too dry. With a gulp of the golden liquid, he strode across the carpeted floor, finally reaching her on the small patio. She'd kept her back turned, not noticing the addition. He moved closer, his lips an inch away, and whispered a single word.

Shawn noticed how she held her breath, worried after a time that she might not breathe out. Eventually, she did, and without turning: "_Bonsoir_, Shawn." He missed it; that warm, breathy voice bathed in a sure French accent. It was then that she made a move to face him. Something about her had changed, though he couldn't quite be sure what it was. Her manner was cold, distant, all of the things she had never been. "I assume you are here for the convention, _non_? The 4400 and their impact on society?"

He didn't speak, simply studying her with his eyes. She was as simple as elegance would allow, and more alluring for it. He moved to set down his scotch glass, unaware as she closed her eyes, breathing in his scent mixed with the smooth blend. He moved back, arms resting on the balustrade on either side of her, still bound to silence. It was her turn to study him. His tailored suite displayed the authoritative businessman she had seen in him once before, though now he wore both the attire, and the manner, with far more confidence. To all around them, he seemed the perfect example of a man in control, but she'd caught the single, almost unrecognizable flaw in his armour; his features had hardened, belying his age and speaking volumes. She'd guessed correctly just what had caused him such stress, though she could never be sure. The warm night breeze sent a rush of gooseflesh as he held her gaze. Was it the breeze?

"Why?" He asked simply. Her brow furrowed, but he knew she understood the question. She was stalling. "Why did you leave?"

"I didn't leave, I moved. If I left, it means that I would've been leaving something behind... or someone, or both." She explained.

His throat tightened, sensing the unasked question that hung between them. "Where have you been?"

"Why does it matter?" She countered quickly.

Shawn couldn't answer. What the hell was going on? He'd known her for less than a week, more than four months ago and yet... "Fine, don't tell me." He shrugged.

"Safe." Now wasn't the right time to tell him, so she'd have to do the best she could. It seemed she'd said enough, and he nodded, accepting it. "_How_ have you been?" He nodded again, though not all too convincingly. The silence lingered between them. "I think I should get going." She moved against him, blocked still by his bulk. "Shawn, please."

He dropped his head, lips brushing against the soft flesh of her neck. Her hand moved back, knocking the champagne glass of its resting place and unintentionally gripping his hand. "Why, Anäis?" Breath hot against her. "Why do you have to go?"

He was close, too close for her to remain level-headed. Though her resolve was quickly melting, she gathered what little she had left. She countered him, moving her lips to his ear, and running them lightly along the appendage. "Because I'm afraid of what might happen if I don't." With that, she pushed against him, finally getting him to move and let her past.

_888_

_Briefing Room, NTAC; Seattle_

Tom Baldwin, Diana Skouris, Nina Jarvis and a host of ten or so NTAC agents filled the briefing room. They'd been working overtime for the past few months, fighting against an unknown threat, if it was one at all. The Elite had been a constant thorn in the side of the center for some time now, simply because nobody knew what to expect from them. Whether they were working for the good of others, or themselves remained to be seen. NTAC had thus far been unable to locate the safe house, or speak to another 4400 who knew of its possible whereabouts. Either those 4400 just didn't know, or they just weren't saying anything; the first option was more comforting. In the meantime, the center had enough brass down its neck to start its own band, and all of it was coming straight from Washington. 'Better the devil you know', seemed to be the motto, and the 4400 center couldn't be appreciated more at this point.

"Agent Ruiz, Handler, were you able to get a hold of the spokeswoman for the group?" Jarvis asked.

"Yes, ma'am. She's been dodging all contact with the authorities for a while, but we finally caught her. Unfortunately, the public relations company which she works for has received a gag order preventing any of the employees from divulging information, to anyone. Since the Elite have yet to do anything that even borders on threatening, we've got our hands tied legally." Handler explained.

"Excuse me, but am I the only one who watched the news report calling the 4400 to arms? They even said that they'd been singled out and chosen for a purpose." Tom interjected. "What part of that isn't threatening?"

Diana shrugged, leaning back. "The call to arms could've just been a figure of speech. And whether it's for good or bad, they have been singled out for a purpose. They're just telling the truth."

Ruiz: "Yeah, but they're being trained to use their abilities, probably to fight."

"That's like putting a dojo under surveillance because the students there are being taught how to fight. Besides, they could argue that they're just trying to keep the general public safe by teaching the 4400 with active abilities to control them. I doubt that anyone would argue with that, having seen how bad things can get." Diana said.

"Who's side are you on?" Asked Tom, growing irritable.

"I'm just pointing out the other side to the story." She snapped.

"Diana's right, we've got to look at this from all angles." Nina said, raising her hands. "Look," she sighed, "does anyone have anything, anything at all?"

Tom tapped his pen against the large, oak table. "I think we should keep an eye on Collier. I'm not convinced at the act he's putting on. Do you really think a man with his ambition, and connections, would just let something like this run its course?"

"Not as easy as it sounds. If they caught on that they were under surveillance, we might get slapped for invasion of privacy. After all, we don't have any grounds. We don't want another debacle like the one we had a month ago." A sudden wave of silence hit the room. "Where are we with the Mercantile Bank robbery?"

"Nowhere. We're convinced it's the work of the 4400, the Elite would be our best guess. But whoever was involved was a pro; we've got nothing but a melted steel door and some concrete. No prints, no CCTV footage, no eyewitnesses... We can only speculate." Tom answered.

"I'm not happy people. We're being made to look like bungling idiots, ten steps behind all of the 4400, and tripping over our own feet." Nina leaned, forearms on the desk. "Your top priority, is to find the Elite headquarters. Put a tag on Collier... and Shawn Farrell." She said, looking to Tom. He nodded, knowing the deceit was necessary. "Dismissed."

_888_

"How was work, mom?" Maia asked as Diana braided her hair at the kitchen counter.

"Tough, which it seems to be more and more often." She answered. The night had been just what she needed: downtime with her family, a good meal, and a DVD of _Spirited Away_, which by April's suggestion, would be great for all of them. Dinner was over, but it was a feast to say the least; she had to applaud her sister's culinary prowess. As they sat in the kitchen, all that remained was the packing of the dishwasher, which April had volunteered to do as long as she had company.

"Yeah, well, I don't agree with what NTAC is up to." April said. "I mean, you guys are treating the 4400 like criminals."

"They could be potential criminals." Diana shot.

"Oh please, everyone is a potential criminal. The 4400 just happen to have other, abilities." April winked at Maia, who smiled in turn. "Way I see it, live an' let live."

Diana shook her head, almost done with Maia's plait. "Good thing you're the only one who sees it that way." She sighed, dropping the golden braid.

"I'm glad," Maia said, raising her voice above April's soon-to-come retort, "I'm glad that, even if NTAC might not like the 4400, there's someone who cares, working for them. Like you." She kissed her mother on the cheek, then bounded through to the lounge.

April closed up the dishwasher, and set her arms across her chest. The sisters were quiet, both finding Maia too damn smart for her age. "The munchkin's right you know." She said finally, walking around to her sister. "As far as I'm concerned, NTAC's only saving grace, is having a gem like you in their ranks."

"Thank you." Diana smiled, the moment of sincerity felt by both. She took the DVD case from the table, and handed it to April. "You get this going, and I'll start on the popcorn." She moved to the microwave as April left, and tossed in a packet of popcorn. She couldn't suppress her smile as she watched April tackle Maia, tickling her until her squeals became no more than gulps of air. The scene was almost complete... almost. She couldn't help but feel as though there was one person missing...

"M.. M... Mom!" Maia squealed. "Help!"

Diana shook her head as she laughed, removing the popcorn from the microwave. "You've got it, sweetheart." She called, making her way into the lounge.

_888_

He'd stayed late at the office, his partner waving goodbye to him hours before he'd made the move home himself. It was his gift and his curse; a staunch... obsessive work ethic. Tom threw his coat on the couch, dropped his keys on the side table, and left his shoes just next to it. The house was dark, though the beams from the street lights filtered in from the far windows. He rolled his neck as he made his was upstairs; stealth so much a part of him that he no longer noticed it seep into an act so simple. Kyle's room was his first stop, not just this night, but every night since his recovery from his coma. He'd never tell him though, it was something private, that was his and his alone. He opened his son's room door and stepped in, watching the form turn and sprawl limbs in every direction. He smiled, noting the sock that hung just barely on Kyle's toe, and the intermittent sounds of light snoring.

He'd seen him sleep, just sleep, for over a year, but it wasn't the same. There had been no life in that confined pose, laced with needles, hooked up to machinery, and monitored twenty-four hours a day. This was the Kyle he knew; his son, his flesh and blood. How could he explain the pain he felt when they fought, the feeling of absolute failure as his son bore a single emotion of hate in his eyes. Kyle thought he didn't care, didn't love him enough, but it was the opposite. He loved him too much, so much so that his need to keep him safe and protect him threatened to destroy their relationship. Tom sunk to the ground, back against the wall. All that he did was for him, and while he didn't know how to be the perfect father, he knew how to be the perfect soldier; he would use the later to strengthen the first. He agreed with himself, and crawled over to Kyle's bed.

"I _am_ proud of you," he whispered, "every, single, minute of my life." Tom smoothed back the section of hair covering Kyle's forehead, and kissed him there. With that, he left, closing the door softly behind him. His next move was to the kitchen, or more precisely, the fridge. He needed the cold water to put his thirst at ease as he resigned himself to one last look at his notes of the case files of the robbery. He turned the TV on, sinking into the couch and taking the overstuffed notepad from its wresting place.

_"The convention on 'the 4400 and their impact on society', held at the Four Seasons Hotel, came to end today, unmarred by any violent attempts on the attendants. Concerns rose as to the safety of all involved, resulting in an unprecedented assembly of security equipment and personnel..."_

Tom rubbed his eyes, the news anchor's voice fading into the back of his mind. He needed to figure this case out; his annoyance at the lack of progress was eating away at him. There had to be something he was missing, something that he just wasn't seeing. His cellphone vibrated, and he fidgeted for a moment, trying to find it somewhere in his jacket pocket. "Baldwin." He answered. "You've got something for me?" After a moment. "I'm on my way."

_888_

Shawn knocked on Jordan's office door, sliding his head in through the just open crack in the door. "Jordan, I'm uh, gonna turn in." He said, trying not to disrupt the man too much.

"Before you do, would you mind taking a seat." Collier asked, setting down his work and leaning back. "Things have been so hectic around here, it's been a while since we've had time to just talk." Shawn nodded, sitting down. "So, you okay?"

"Yeah, not sure why everyone keeps asking me that though." He laughed, clasping his hands in from of him.

Jordan raised an eyebrow. "Who else has asked you?"

"You know, just people." He answered. "What about you? How're things going with, the situation?"

They both knew what, the situation, was. "I think we might have a real problem on our hands." He said, running his index finger across his lips. "I actually wanted to talk to you about taking over the projects which I need to delegate, if you don't mind."

Shawn sat up slightly. "Of course, not a problem."

"With everything that's happening, I need to focus the bulk of my attention on this, group, the Elite. I would like to find a way to work with them, if it's at all possible, but I doubt that they'll be open to the idea. Barring that, we need to at least know what we're dealing with, and put a face to our opponents." He smiled, lifting two slender tickets from his shirt pocket. "But before all that, this is for you." He handed them to him. "Courtside to the Sonics versus the Lakers. It's not much but I figured you could use the downtime."

The young man tapped the tickets over his fingers. "You gonna join me?" He asked, grinning.

"I can't." Shawn masked his disappointment well, so well in fact, that Jordan failed to see it. "I need to sort things out, and I can't afford to skip a day or night." He rounded the desk. "I know that things are tough. This may not be the life you dreamed of, or the life you want, but it is the life you have. You're needed now, by myself and others. Take the time off, at least until the end of the week, and come back ready."

"Yes, sir." Shawn joked as he stood, bringing his hand into a salute.

"You know I would if I could." Jordan said seriously, looking down at the tickets. He embraced him, patting him on the back before they parted.

_888_

A visibly shaken, older man, fell to his knees, courtesy of the Asian man who stood behind him. He looked up slowly, taking in the wooden walls of the office which he had been brought to. Opulence would best encompass the feel of the room. Thick, white carpeting decorated the floor; four flat screens mounted the wall, each with a different news station; long crimson curtains hung from the high windows, and there appeared to be a fairly large private library upstairs. But he wasn't all to concerned with investigating the scenery. The only thing of interest to him, was the woman standing directly ahead, delicate features unflinching in light of current events.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Hicket." Anäis said, smiling, sitting casually on the edge of the large desk.

"Yeah." He said, politely. He hadn't really had a choice in the matter.

"I assume you know why I asked you here?" Though she sounded mostly American, a slight accent could be heard. She received no more than a flicker in his eyes, as her response. "You were not to divulge the location of this safe house, to anybody. And yet, I am told, that you were to meet with an agent from NTAC later this evening. Am I correct?"

He shook his head. "It wasn't like that. I was set up! Some guy I know's been leaking information to NTAC, he's the one who set up the meeting, not me."

"I know that you are aware of how important it is for us to keep this place away from those that would try to harm us. So the question must become: 'why some guy you knew' was aware of our involvement?" She stalked toward him and knelt, lifting his chin with a slender finger. "I like you, Garret, so I'm not going to take this as far as I should. Your expertise are valued here with us. Take this as your first, and last warning: if you let slip, anything about us and your employment with us, you will not live to say much more." He nodded feverishly. "Go." He needed no more than that. Though his legs were about to give way beneath him, he stood and rushed out.

"That easy, huh?" The man that had brought Hicket in, shrugged.

She walked up to him. "It will not serve our purpose to kill him. NTAC will only see it as a solidification of their suspicions that we are not 'the good guys'." He nodded, and turned to leave. She grabbed his arm. "But, could you do me a favour, Jin?" The veil she'd placed over her accent dropped, and her smile evoked a slew of indecent thoughts.

Jin returned the gesture, moving in close. "Anything for you, beautiful."

"Follow him, and break his jaw. He should be made fully aware of the weaknesses of his loose lips." Though the words were menacing, the delivery was intoxicatingly pleasant to his ears.

"Done." He winked at her, and strode out, not phased by the request.

"Should I be afraid, Anäis?" A deep voice asked, coming from the library upstairs. A familiar male figure stepped out, descending as she closed the doors. He ran a hand through his black hair, finding that it might just be time for a cut. "It seems you are mastering more than just the powers given to you from the future." Walking to her, he planted a kiss on her hair.

"That's why you put me here, is it not, Michael?" She asked.

He cocked his head to the side, smiling finally. "Yes it is." His blue eyes smiled in turn. "Still, I never would've imagined how adept you've become at manipulation. I wonder whether you're deceiving me at this very moment."

"No, I would never. Besides, you know me too well not to realise if I would." She seemed hurt by the statement. "You've been my savior and my friend, and I would not be here if it were not for you. Anything you ask of me, I will do."

"I know, why do you think I put you in charge? You're the head of the Elite, and you'll remain that way." He moved to the screens, caught by one of the news reports. "I know that I can rely on you to get things done. I need to have someone that I can count on, especially now." Michael turned to her. "I've already set events in motion, and it's time you knew where I want to take things." She waited for him to continue. "Power, Anäis, and not just of the individual 4400, but political power. You, all of you, will be the driving force I need to secure it. Once the 4400 affirm themselves politically, the sky's the limit."

She thought on it, looking up to the screen as she did. "That might be difficult." That much was obvious.

He sighed. "Especially with Jordan being the poster boy of the 4400." He chewed on his lower lip, watching Collier's face on screen. "You know, I always thought my brother should get rid of that stupid beard."

* * *

_To Be Continued..._

_A/n: I wanted to use this first chapter to establish the status of all the relationships before I dug into any action. I also tried to steer away from making things too 'fluffy'. This is my second 4400 fic, and a serial following "You never can be too sure these days". Feedback, though not necessary, is greatly appreciated!_


	2. Chapter 2

**_Who Said Things Were Going To Get Easier?_**

Disclaimer: The 4400 belong to USA network...

_A/n:_ Since I've only seen the first parts of the second series, this is where it's set. Unfortunately, I haven't seen the rest of the series due to... life, being its usual, annoying, self. If what I'm writing isn't on par with what has happened in the series, forgive me, and consider it AU.

* * *

Tom watched the ice blocks float in the dark liquid that filled his short tumbler. He'd been waiting for over an hour now for his contact. The seedy bar that he found himself in wasn't how he'd pictured spending his night. Cigarette smoke filled the air, clouding the line of sight for anyone sober enough to notice. Dated music escaped from the decades old jukebox, partially lost amidst the slurred voices, pool cues against pool balls, and occasional bouts of laughter. The dim lighting and neon brand signs were the cherry on top. It hadn't been his first choice, hell it wouldn't have been his choice at all, but his informant had set up the meeting. All the other guy had to do was show up, which was clearly a task too difficult to carry out. Tom threw back the rest of his drink, using his thumb and index finger to clear the corners of his mouth. He signaled for the barman, ready to pay.

"You, Tom Baldwin?" Tom looked at the voluptuous woman as she blew a bubble with her gum, resetting the pink substance in her mouth once it exploded. "Are - you - Tom - Baldwin?" She asked again, emphasizing every word jarringly.

"Who wants to know?" He asked, his tone light. She shrugged and dropped an envelope on the bar counter in front of him, wiggling her hips as she walked off. He took a good look at it, before removing a pair of latex gloves from his jacket pocket, and using them to get to the letter addressed to him.

_Sorry._

Tom leapt from his seat, tucking the paper back where it came from as he chased after her. "Excuse me." He called, bumping a couple of not too happy men as he made his way. "Excuse me." Finally he reached her, spinning her around. "Who gave this to you?" He hadn't meant to loose the calm in his voice, but if there was any chance his contact had left the note, he was getting away, and fast. "Who gave this note to you?" He asked, more insistent.

She looked down at his latex gloved hands, raising a brow. Gesturing to the door: "Vic, the bouncer, he told me to give it to you 'cause he couldn't leave his seat."

Tom thanked her and walked over to, Vic. "Could you tell me who gave this envelope to you?" He asked, holding up the object in question. Vic shrugged. Growing increasingly irritated, he pulled out his badge with an audible sigh. "Who gave it to you?" Vic crossed his arms, and leaned against the wall. "Listen buddy, I'm a government agent."

"So where's your warrant?" The oversized man shrugged.

Against the insistence of every fiber in his body, Tom didn't throttle him. He walked out, doing his best to breathe deep breaths. He looked up the road one way, then down the other, trying to calm himself. With one swift kick to the pole of the street light, he finally shouted into the cold night air. "Shit."

_888_

Richard Tyler ended his shower. He wished that the much needed break could have lasted a while longer, but duty called. It was strange, by how far a margin his life had changed in the blink of an eye... well, _his_ eye at any rate. Aside from returning to a time of ambiguous renditions of right and wrong, fearing for the lives of his wife and daughter, and being subject to prejudice that was unfounded, his life hadn't turned out that badly. Prejudice: he'd seen more than his fair share and for reasons more petty than being a returnee from the future. But, right and wrong had been easier concepts back in the fifties. The enemies were clear cut, and people knew who to hate and who to love. Now? Well, things had definitely changed. He wrapped his towel around his waist, standing in front of the mirror with no clear intention for just that moment.

"Good morning." Lily greeted, leaning casually against the doorframe.

He smiled at her reflection, one which broadened as he was met with the real thing. "Good morning, sweetheart."

"You know I don't like waking up without you by my side." She pouted

"I'm sorry, but I've got to get to work." She moved up to him, grabbing hold of the towel. "Lil, I've got to get to work." He said again, trying to sound stern. She tugged at the towel, pulling him her way as she moved back slowly. "Don't do this."

"Do what?" She said innocently, biting her lower lip.

"This isn't fair." He said, unknowingly licking his lips.

"Depends on who you ask." Lily joked. She'd brought them back into the bedroom, eyes locked firmly on his.

"Work is gonna miss me."

"This bed is going to miss you."

"Jordan needs me, especially today."

"I need you, right now."

"Lily."

"Richard."

She moved up, standing on her toes to reach her target. Her lips met his in a kiss so soft, he'd swear they were made of silk. She wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing him to scoop her up, and place her gently on the bed. She ran her hands along his muscles, smiling at the comforting arms that had held her tight, and made her feel safe when she'd felt she would crumble. Those same arms had held her in the throws of passion, and those same hands had explored her, gently, tenderly. She laced her fingers with his, kissing his strong, dark skin. "You think too much for your own good." She whispered, noticing the expression he wore.

"If they're thoughts of you, I can never have too many." He whispered back, kissing each of her eyelids. "I love you, Lily."

"I know. I love you too." She turned her head to the bedside clock. "I think we've still got a little time." She said, raising a brow naughtily.

_888_

"So glad that you decided to join us, Richard." Jordan shot, lips pursed as he watched the tall man stride across the conference room to the open seat on his left.

"Sorry, I had to..." Richard left the sentence open, not really sure how he was planning on filling the rest. He went for the green folder in front of him, opening it up to the first page, and then the ninth once he had a chance to peek over a co-worker's file.

Jordan had been watching him from the corner of his eye, not at all pleased that he had chosen today of all days to be late. He took a deep breath, knowing that a loss in composure would do little to help him at this point. "I trust that you'll take a thorough look at the items we've addressed in your absence. Collect the minutes from Amy once we're done." He gestured to the woman at the end of the table. "I am glad, however, that you've managed to come just in time for our last order of business: I have it on good authority that NTAC intends to put the center under surveillance, and to a greater extent, myself."

"But that isn't anything new. NTAC's been trying since the center was established." Richard said.

"True, but times have changed. I can't have any of our activities leak out to them, not now."

"Why?" The question that came from Richard was laced with suspicion.

"Because of the Elite." It seemed that was the response his head of security was waiting for. "I wish to enter into peaceful talks with them, but it doesn't exactly speak to our solidarity if they smell NTAC anywhere near us. To this point, they've managed to keep themselves hidden. If we jeopardize that, we've closed off any chance we have of possibly working together for the good of all the 4400." Richard accepted it. "Richard, I want you handling this. Do whatever you have to to keep NTAC's eyes and ears off me, and the center."

"What about Shawn?"

"I'll speak with him when he returns tonight, he isn't handling any business for the moment so we don't have much to worry about. When he does get back, you afford him everything that you would me." Jordan looked to the half a dozen faces in the room. "I believe that's it." After a few casual handshakes, and brief words of parting, he was alone. He turned to the wide view of the city, the fields of green kept by the center, the stunning introduction. There was no way he was going to let this all crumble at the threats of some radical group.

-"Mr. Collier?"

"Yes, Amy." He answered to the speaker phone.

-"You have a call. Would you like to take it here, or in your office?"

"Here's fine." Something prompted him to ask: "Who is it?"

-"He refused to give me a name. Would you still like to take the call?"

"Yes, put it through." He lifted the receiver of the single phone at the end of the table. "Jordan Collier."

-"Hello Jordan, how are you?" The greeting chilled him, despite the kind words.

Jordan paused, finding the voice slightly familiar. "I'm alright. Who am I speaking with?" He asked, tapping his fingers impatiently against the desk.

-"I can't believe you don't know." Mock surprise. "You're a smart man, memory like a steel trap..."

"Why should I care for the voice of a ghost?"

-"Now how can I be dead if we're having this conversation." If there was a question there, Jordan couldn't find it.

"You're dead to _me_."

-"Still have that same sunny disposition I see."

"You're not going to get anything from me, Michael, so if that's all..."

-"No, you've got me wrong, dear brother. I don't want anything from you."

"I haven't spoken to you in over twenty years. Why the phone call if not for that?"

-"Just good to hear your voice. In fact, how about we meet? Catch up on old times?"

"No." He put down the receiver. He dropped his head into his hands, and ran them back through his hair.

_888_

Michael Potente grinned at the phone, having already anticipated the response he'd received. The music of the club could be heard faintly through the walls of his spacious office. The underground club scene had been the best connection he could ever have made. Through it, he could get lost in anonymity, while networking shamelessly. Every high-end client in the establishment had no idea who he was or what he looked like. Middle-men were the way to go, one reporting to the next and so on and so on, until a single trusted employee relayed the goings on of those around him. He'd used this tactic since returning to the states those years ago, and it seemed to be working well for him. His discreet means, however, spoke nothing of the man himself. Though noticeably shorter than his sibling, he was larger, the result of a musculature he'd spent years perfecting. A constant five o clock shadow plagued him, and the only other feature he shared with Jordan Collier was raven hair, the only other feature besides the eyes. To anyone who dared look long enough at the piercing orbs, they'd find the unmistakable link to the kinsman.

"Was it wise to reveal yourself?" Anäis. The single, most trusted person whom he seldom, if at all, referred to as his employee. She was more than just that. A more remarkable woman he had yet to meet. Her composure, and compassion, belay the harsh life she had forced herself to forget. But traces of that life could still be found in her: her ability to suddenly detach from herself when difficult decisions needed to be made was both admirable, and disconcerting. He imagined that there was still more that he did not know of her.

He snapped out of thought. "I don't know." He answered honestly. "But my gut instinct seldom leads me astray." There it was: the sentence that explained his journey through hell and back. "Jordan was happy to have me out of the way. The ambitious prick never did like competition." He stood from his desk chair, stretching out casually. "Especially from me." He added.

"I have been thinking about what you said to me, _mon ami_," she said, not moving from her comfortable seat on the couch, "and I'm wondering how you propose to be an integral part of the 4400 movement, without being one of us."

"_Une question valide, mon cher._ But you, like my dear brother, are looking at this from the wrong perspective." Michael seemed savour the telling, a look of enthusiasm that bore a striking resemblance to Jordan in that moment. "I am not intending to be a part of the 4400 movement, I'm intending for the movement to be a part of the world." She raised a curved brow to him. "The 4400 are outnumbered by us, mere mortals, are you not?" She agreed. "Do you believe that in a government that would not even consider putting a woman in the oval office, a member of the 4400 will have any hopes of reaching it?"

She stood now, intrigued by the statement. "You intend for the presidency?"

"Why not?" He shrugged. "I have no traceable ties to this club, which has generated vast amounts but is, less than above board. My reputation and dealings beyond what you see here, have been the model of perfection. I steered clear of the limelight, in order to steer clear of my brother, but now that is no longer a necessity. I never intended for this," he placed his hands on her shoulders, "and until the return of the 4400, I never had a hope in hell of achieving it."

"How do the Elite factor into your plans?"

"God, I hate that name. When we finally go public, we're going to have to change it." It seemed as though he was saying it more to himself than her. "I've been monitoring your progress with the new recruits, impressive to say the least." He smiled. "When the time is right, you'll all be introduced as the pinnacle of what the 4400 are destined to achieve. My brother has been side-tracked, slowing his own progress. We'll have done in months what the center couldn't do in years. Mastering your abilities is only the first step, the next is to discover why you were brought back."

"And with our powers no longer being a threat to us, and those around us, we're free to do so." Michael nodded. "How is this any different to the 4400 center?" Her gaze was harsh, expressing her annoyance at the redundancy he seemed to convey.

"How is it any different?" He shouted, rage filling in his eyes. "Society is weak. Humanity is weak. And even in the wake of everything that's happened, they accept only what they know. I will be that link, the norm to which they cling so desperately. They need direction, not the scant few predictions of a future from a teenager. They need actions, not words. They need order, not chaos. They need a leader, not a prophet."

"Just who are you doing this for?" She asked softly, meeting his anger with a chilling calm.

He caught himself, moving away from her slightly. "I see a chance to make a difference here, and I have faith enough to trust myself in doing it." With a gentle stroke to her cheek: "Don't you?"

"Of course." She bowed her head, then lifted it intently. "You know that I've never asked you for anything, even though I greatly appreciate the generosity you've shown me." Anäis paused as he nodded, taking a deep breath. "But now, I'd like to ask that once these recruits have been fully trained, a handful of the best join me as a splinter group."

"Why?" He questioned.

"Humans have their Defense Force, the 4400 should have their own."

"Very well, the group will be announced along with the Elite."

"No," she said, "in the event that our defense might be less than, agreeable, at times. I want to keep the 4400 safe from the lunatics out there, and that might require sidestepping lawful tactics. What they don't know, they can't use against us."

He smiled. "That's my girl." He took in her delicate features, proud of the depth that hid behind them. "The man who makes a life with you, will be a great man indeed."

"I'm going to go," she said absentmindedly, grabbing her coat, "and... turn in." The explanation she'd given him was less than substantial, but there's wasn't a relationship that often questioned. She left through the front door of his office, then keyed in the code to unlock the next door in the small space after it. Privacy was key to his success, and though the blocks he'd set in place may have seemed paranoid, they were the key to his privacy. Many of the employees of the club, and the guests that frequented it, believed the office to be Anäis', since they'd never seen anyone else enter or leave. Michael had used the forgotten service tunnels to come and go, the portal to which was hidden behind a mock filing cabinet. She shook her head as she thought how paranoid it sounded, even to her. As she left the club, and hugged her jacket close to her once reaching the night air, she wondered where her legs were taking her.

_888_

"Coffee, please." Shawn ordered, nodding to the chubby man at the counter. He'd opted for something with less strength than the beverages he'd been consuming of late. He opened his wallet to pay, and brought his eyes to the tickets that had rested firmly between his credit card and driver's license. If he didn't hurry, he'd miss the start of the game. But then, he wasn't hurrying, as shown by his detour to this coffee shop. It was small, out of the way, and nothing compared to what he could've gotten closer to the arena. In truth, he was stalling. In truth, he would be attending the game on his own. Being an influential man was great, until it came down to being just a man. His first thought had been to invite his brother, but that wasn't really an option. His second had been Kyle, but things had become so awkward between them that it would seem too... forced. There was too much to say, that needed to be said, before they could put the past where it belonged. Yes, the list of friends ran very short.

The bell above the door gave a melancholic 'ping'. He'd never determine what made him turn around. "Sir, your coffee." The girl behind the counter said. He could only guess she'd said a little more of the same at his non-response as he locked with the eyes he hadn't been able to forget. Shawn found his way to them, though he couldn't quite remember how.

"I took a chance that you'd be here." Anäis said, moving a little too close for mere pleasantries. They couldn't be sure of how long they stood there, saying nothing. In an act that seemed to take more effort each time she performed it, "and now I'm not sure why I did," she turned and left.

"Anäis." He called after her.

"Sir." The waitress called, accidentally knocking the chubby man's drink over.

"Anäis." Shawn jogged after her, not bothering to apologize to the few people he knocked along the way. He caught her, and brought her around. "You know why. You know why you took the chance." She tried to fight against him. "_I_ know why you took the chance."

"No, this can't happen." She cried breathlessly.

"Yes it can." He said. She repeated her words, as though somehow they'd do more than they had. "Why won't you admit what's happening between us?" He shouted, wishing he could shake the answer from her.

"Because I'm afraid." She shouted back, silencing him. "I'm afraid that I'll loose what little control I have." She ran her fingers across his neck, under his jaw and finally, stopped before his lips. Her own were drawn closer, until they brushed briefly against his. "I'm afraid that if I taste you, I won't be able to come back." She whispered.

The strength of their gaze held them there. He saw in her what he felt in himself, and they could do little to stop what was about to happen. Their lips locked. Blood coursed through their veins like liquid fire, hearts beating to a savage drum. The kiss was fierce, their tongues ravenous as they explored more, felt more, tasted more. They enveloped each other, despising any space that might stand between them. Longing, want, need, were all words too subtle to describe their state. And finally, when ecstasy threatened to suffocate them, their bruised lips parted with the greatest of their wills.

Their foreheads touched as they breathed heavily, Shawn finding the last words that would pass either's lips for the rest of that night: "Then stay with me."

* * *

_To Be Continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

**_Who Said Things Were Going To Get Easier?_**

Disclaimer: The 4400 belong to USA network...

_A/n:_ Since I've only seen the first parts of the second series, this is where it's set. Unfortunately, I haven't seen the rest of the series due to... life, being its usual, annoying, self. If what I'm writing isn't on par with what has happened in the series, forgive me, and consider it AU.

* * *

"Alright, I've got one." Anäis called out. "Favourite pastime?"

"You're serious?" Shawn asked scratching his head as he feigned deep thought. "That would imply that I actually have spare time." He laughed. "Uh... at the risk of letting the nerd in me out, I watch cartoons. Spongebob Squarepants to be exact."

"Pah." She said, putting on her most arrogant French expression. "Spongebob does nothing for me. Samurai Jack all the way."

"Clearly, you have yet to appreciate the artistry within Spongebob." He made her laugh at the statement. "Alright, alright. Favourite city?"

Anäis followed her steps with her eyes as she thought. They had been walking for hours now. From the coffee shop through... well, they weren't sure anymore. Minutes had become hours and if their suggestion of the sun rising sometime soon was correct, they had only minutes left of true night time. But for now, they were content to walk through Kinnear park and discuss the trivialities in their lives. A warm breeze brushed against them as they walked, complimented by the spongey, green grass beneath their bare feet. Anäis exact words upon removing her shoes had been: "Contrary to popular belief, a woman cannot walk indefinitely in 6-inch heels." Off her shoes went and, after seeing the immense comfort the act had given her, Shawn's followed suit.

"Here." She said softly, whiping a lock of hair behind her ear. "It's a beautiful city of course, but more than that, I've got a life here, and responsibilities. I like having that."

"Is that what you want?" Shawn asked, stopping to face her.

"That's not a 'favourite' question." She laughed, not having caught the seriousness displayed on his face. "I want... I want a simple life. I know it'll never be normal, I mean how can it be with everything that's happened? But, simple is good." She leant in close to him. "We never had our coffee." And with that, she lead him by the hand to the coffee vendor just outside the park.

"This has the potential to be the worst coffee I've ever had in my life... Worse than my own, and that's saying something."

"Come on, be nice." The vendor waved a hearty hello as he grabbed two styrofoam cups. "Hi Harry, how're you doing?" Anäis asked.

"I'm good pumpkin, how about you?" Harry lifted a brow, glancing at Shawn as if sizing him up.

"I'm good thank you. Julie and the kids?"

Harry laughed. "Ethan's birthday party went okay... a little destruction... okay a lot of destruction." Harry was tall. He had the look of a man who might've appeared more formidable if life had been kinder to him. His face aged beyond its years, but his eyes remained as they had been, smiling, and extremely aware. "But other than that, we're all alright."

"That's good to hear. Oh, where are my manners?" She said suddenly. "Harry, this is Shawn. Shawn, Harry."

"I know you." Said the older man. "You're part of that 4400 center." Shawn nodded, preparing for the disapproving look. "Good things you lot do there. Anäis says she's been... sings your praises."

"She does?" He looked to the woman next to him, a small grin on his face.

"She does."

_888_

"Jonathan!" Malik had been searching for his brother for the past half hour now. His bare feet hit the plywood floors of Apollo House as he snaked his way through the empty rooms and corridors of the newly acquired safe haven for 4400s like himself. Conversation could be heard from the end of the hallway, probably a class from the sounds of it. Malik walked past and gave a brief nod of recognition to the four adult students seated around a fifth woman who was, quite obviously, leading the class. At 6"4, his presence was somewhat difficult to ignore and, upon reaching the main lounge, this became clear. "Jin, what's happenin' man." He greeted.

A dark mowhawk peered over the back of the couch. "Malik." Jin got up, "I've been meaning to talk to you," and directed his friend out to the front garden. "Don't suppose you've seen Anäis around have you?"

"You and I've got the same problem. We've both got people we're looking for and can't find. Nah, I haven't seen her since yesterday." The sun had risen not more than an hour ago, and already the bustle in the city below could be seen.

"Yeah, she didn't come home last night. Her bed hasn't been slept in, nothing in her room's been touched." Jin said, more to himself than the man in front of him, his eyes unknowningly focused on a white dove.

Malik shook his head. "You know that for a fact?"

"Yeah, I do." He tapped his lip. "I'm going to go and look for her. Hold the fort while I'm gone."

"Hold the fort? What're you talking about? Gina and Walter were left in charge last I checked."

"I don't trust them bro, and you shouldn't either. Something just isn't right about them, and until I find out what it is, they're about as trustworthy as NTAC agents." He turned and made it for the stairs.

"Hey, you seen Jonathan?"

Jin shrugged. "Why don't you just call him?"

"Because I'm crap at it." He laughed.

"You're telling me your eleven year old brother has mastered his ability and you haven't? That shit's shocking man."

_888_

Warm rays of gold tore through the buildings that made up the Seattle skyline as cars zoomed through the streets and the working class made their way to their respective jobs. It was doubtful whether anyone of the growing mass was truly aware of the beauty of the day... aside from the couple that stood on the sidewalk, oblivious to all around them. The city had come alive and was now in full swing. "I wasn't exactly one of the nicest people when I was a teenager. I'm not just talking teen rebellion here, I mean full blown asshole." Anäis couldn't control her laughter at the statement. Disbelief had been present in her eyes as he told the tale of his venture with Missy Forester behind the school bleachers, and the fallout after a few not too gentlemanly comments about her, to his friends. "The Shawn Farell you see before you was pretty much born in the future we have no memory of to live in a past that seems doomed to destruction." He stood back and took a bow, bumping a few passersby as he did.

"Come here." She pulled him to her, "You're crazy, and soon you're going to convince these people on the street that all 4400 are," and let her eyes drift around them.

"What is it?" Shawn noticed the change in her expression.

She forced her eyes closed. "I thought I saw something."

"It's the fatigue talking." He kissed an eyelid, then the other. "That's what happens after over twenty-four hours without sleep. Trust me, I know."

Anäis winced and grabbed her stomach. "Okay, now my stomach's talking... scratch that, shouting. I wonder if I might ask the great Shawn Ferell to join me for breakfast?"

"Maybe." He grinned. "There are conditions."

"Conditions?" Asked Anäis, a brow lifted and awaiting his next words.

"Condition one: I pay, no questions asked. And two," He continued, bringing a finger to her lips to silence her protests, "you promise to pigout with me."

"Done."

And so, on they went to Macy's. The diner was tucked away near one of the smallest alleyways either of them had ever seen and it wasn't much to behold from outside or in.Again, the idea had been hers, although at this point he trusted her judgement enough to go with it. They picked a booth at the back corner of the establishment, away from most prying eyes and a prime enough spot to observe the world. As they settled in beside each other, a waitress came to take their order of two coffees with milk, and the Mammoth Morning Meal.

_888_

Malik was at his end. He'd been searching for his brother for ages now, and while he knew that Jonathan would call him if he was in danger, it didn't stop him from worrying. He'd reached the end of the Apollo grounds and was about to turn back when a squirrel raced to his feet. He looked down at it, somewhat surprised and tried to side-step it. It looked up at him and moved to block his path. Again he tried and again it moved. "Jonny?" The squirrel bobbed up and down and scampered behind Malik. "Well it's about time." He followed the little creature, stumbling a few times as he made his way down the steep incline to the rivlet that ran past the grounds. A little way across, he saw the boy that had caused him so much worry.

"Hi Malik." Came the light voice as the squirrel ran to the boy's side.

"What you think you playing at little man?" Malik's anger was not hidden. "Sneakin' off and not tellin' anybody where you at? It's not safe for you, for any of us."

"But Anäis does it."

"It ain't the same thing. She can handle herself."

"I have powers too." Jonathan shot back. "I can use them better than you can."

Malik shook his head and sat on the rocks next to his brother. "I know you can Jonny, no one here's arguing that including me. I was just worried okay, don't do that again. Next time, at least give me a heads up." He tapped his temple.

They sat in silence for a while until next Jonathan spoke: "I'm worried about Anäis." He looked to Malik. "I heard what Jin said."

"The white dove was you?" Malik asked. His brother nodded. "Let me tell you something, straight up: If Anäis ever had to go head to head with any one of the 4400 here, she'd take 'em out, no doubt about it. Even _I_ hate having to train with her."

"Jin's also pretty good though."

"Jin? Please, that boy can't do a thing that makes sense when he's around her." Malik looked out into the wooded area and caught sight of an eagle. "Feel like teaching your brother a few moves?"

"Only if my brother promises to concentrate harder than he has been, I'm getting sick and tired of teaching you the same thing." Malik grabbed his brother playfully around the neck and rubbed Jonny's head with his knuckles.

_888_

"I think I'm going to be sick." Anäis moaned, leaning back onto the window.

Shawn rubbed her stomach. "Not coping, is it?" He laughed. "Don't worry, I've got healing hands."

"I'm sure you do." She placed her hand over his, holding his eyes with her own. "And how about you, was the Mammoth Meal enough?"

"So-so. I could still eat."

In shock: "You could still eat?"

"I could still eat." He nodded. "But congratulations to you. You did a lot better than I thought you would, by actually finishing it."

"Why thank you." She said with pride. "I aim to please." The waitress returned just then with Shawn's credit card and dispensed the usual parting pleasantries while clearing their plates and cups.

Shawn became silent, slowly rubbing the lean leg that bridged his own with one hand, and with his other hand, entangling his fingers with hers. "I had a good time last night and this morning."

"You're saying it like it's ending."

"Well isn't it?"

"It doesn't have to be. We can just keep going."

"Where, and for how long?"

"It doesn't matter." She knew this look by now, his look of the world coming down on his shoulders. She wanted him to be rid of it. With some persuasion and much will power from both sides, they managed to detangle themselves from each other and leave the fast filling diner. They said their goodbyes to the waitress and were out onto the streets of Seattle once more. The traffic had slowed down to chaos after the morning rush, and it was a considerable amount easier to navigate than it had been the first time around. As they hit a traffic light and awaited the pedestrian 'walk' to signal that they could do just that, she turned to him. "What now, my Thinker?" She asked softly.

"What is this? What are we?"

She shrugged, cupping his cheek in her hand. "I don't know, but I know that I don't want to think about it. It's too much, too complicated. I want to be where I am, right now and that's something I don't need to think about." Then she gave him a look so deeply intense, he would've done absolutely anything for her at that point. They hugged, and the sweet kiss they shared lingered long after the 'walk' sign had lit.

A sudden force rocked their bodies and Anäis slowly felt Shawn's full weight rest on her. They fell to the pavement, unable to do much else. She looked at Shawn, his eyes growing vacant as his mouth contorted in pain. With effort, she rolled him off her, wincing in pain and grabbing her side. There was blood. The scream of a passerby rented the air as blood began to stream out from beneath Shawn, filling the gritwork of the pavement with crimson liquid as it traveled further, creating a pool. She lifted his shirt, biting down as she saw the bullet wound in his stomach that was bleeding him to death. Her eyes searched through the mayhem, unable from where she knelt, to find any signs of a shooter.

"Shawn!" She shook him, his eyes darting around, clearly struggling to hold on to consciousness. "Shawn, don't." She shouted. "Shawn. Stay with me!" Her last words seemed to be the ones to bring him to focus. He looked at her, struggling to breath steadily. "Shawn can you hear me?"

He nodded.

"There isn't enough time to get an ambulance. Heal yourself Shawn. Heal yourself now or you will die." She was different now, even in his haze he saw it. She had gone into a kind of survival mode... and it was working.

"Can't. I can't."

"Why?" She continued to shout. His eyes rolled again. "Shawn! Why can't you heal yourself?"

"Not strong enough. Not enough..."

"Shawn! Shawn listen to me!" She shook him again, scared he was fading fast. "Shawn if you sleep now, you will not wake up, and everything that you mean to this world will be gone. It cannot loose you, I..." The words were caught in her throat. She looked around them, a crowd slowly forming. "I can get you what you need, but promise me you'll hold on, please." He nodded, beginning to shiver.

Anäis took his hand in hers, and placed it on the gun shot wound. The other she stretched out. She closed her eyes, and fought to gain a control she had yet to truly master. When next her eyes opened, tiny snaps of light littered around them like symphony of fireworks. She looked to all the curious bodies that surrounded them, and with no need to be told, they stepped back. The air began to heat, and in seconds, the heat became almost unbearable. Again the crowd stepped back, then further and further. The nearest street lamps burst first, then the next. The traffic lights lost power and the same went for the surrounding stores. She leant down and kissed him.

Shawn felt a surge, one that almost made him loose any focus he had left. The injury became prevelant in his mind and he reveled in the feeling that had grown so familiar to him in the past few years. Tissue mended... muscle merged... blood flowed... skin rejoined. Anäis' lips left his as she forced her gaze skyward. A scream of pain left her and, with it, a flash of light so brilliant it blinded onlookers for some time. It took some effort, but Shawn got to his feet, helping a weakened Anäis do the same. The crowd was pushed back by five or so people, authorities by the look. Whether it was founded or not, he felt an undoubtable NTAC presence.

"Are you alright?" He asked, taking her face in his hands and frantically checking her over.

She moved her arm and exposed the wound in her side. "Now that you've gotten the little matter of saving your life out of the way, do you think you could take a look at this?" Anäis ended, collapsing into his arms.

_888_


	4. Chapter 4

**_Who Said Things Were Going To Get Easier?_**

Disclaimer: The 4400 belong to USA network...

_A/n:_ Since I've only seen the first parts of the second series, this is where it's set. Unfortunately, I haven't seen the rest of the series due to... life, being its usual, annoying, self. If what I'm writing isn't on par with what has happened in the series, forgive me, and consider it AU.

_A/n (27 June 2007):_ Bringing Who said... to a close, simply because I started it so long ago and now it's become dated. I'm going to put the next story up soon, having updated the characters and synchronising it with the current 4400 series. Hope you enjoy the read

* * *

"Tell Luthor he'll get the story as soon as we know what it is. I'm not saying a word to any member of the press at this point." Jordan finished, handing one of his assistants the cell phone. His entourage was about eleven strong, some scribbling notes, others trying to field calls, others making calls, and after the morning's incident, body guards. They travelled down the halls of the private hospital, seemingly oblivious the staff and patients that had to duck out of their way as they moved with purpose. They turned the corner on the fourth floor, and their search was ended. Jordan turned to the people behind them and signalled for them to stay where they were. He made his way to Shawn, and though they kept their distance, two wider-set men stepped out from amongst the troop of suites and followed.

Jordan was first: "Talk to me." He said, slapping an arm on Shawn's shoulder and guiding him down the corridor.

"I could talk, but I wouldn't know what to say. One minute we're walking along, having a great time, the next, I've got a bullet through my stomach." Shawn replied, seeming to go through the events in his mind as he did.

"What were you doing there?"

"Having breakfast. Well, we'd finished breakfast at that point, we were on our way somewhere else."

"Where?"

"I don't know, anywhere." His expression suddenly changed. He realised then that Jordan seemed to be pressing for something. "What has any of that got to do with being shot at?'

Jordan let out a strained laugh. "Someone tried to end your life today Shawn. Any question I ask has significance right now! NTAC is already on the case, but as far as I'm concerned, they're looking in the wrong direction." He stroked his beard, pacing the breadth of the wide corridor. "Did she call you?" He looked to the surrogate son he'd almost lost. "Anäis. Did she call you last night to meet?"

"No."

"Then how did you end up spending the night with each other?"

"We met at a coffee shop."

"Did she know you'd be there?"

"No, it was pure chance... and I don't think I like where this is going." Said Shawn, moving away from the wall he had been so comfortable against. "You think she had something to do with this?"

Jordan was silent for a moment. "I don't trust her Shawn. I don't trust her, and neither should you."

"Funny, my uncle said the same thing about you." He left his mentor.

_888_

The intersection had been taped off, and officers were diverting traffic to the nearest alternate route. There was no keeping this quiet, and there wasn't a doubt in anyone's mind that the story was already been prepped for front pages across the nation. It had been a while since the public had last gotten word of an assassination attempt, and such headlines always upped newspaper sales. Amidst the guided chaos stood Tom and Diana, arms akimbo, minds in deep thought. Tom knelt and tried to picture the shooter from the direction forensics had given them. Diana looked around, scanning the surrounding stores and alleys.

"Over a hundred potential witnesses... and no one saw a thing." She said finally.

"People get too caught up in their day to be really observant. I bet if you asked anyone who'd been here at the time of the shooting, no one could accurately tell you anything about Shawn, even though he's such a public face. What colour shirt he was wearing, blue jeans or pants, the simple things that all go unnoticed."

Diana stared at the dried pool of blood. "I still find it amazing what he can do. It's a gift that not only saved others, but now, it's saved him."

"The woman that he was with, what happened to her?"

"They took her to Reaves Public. The bullet went through Shawn and into her, lodged itself in her side. She's gonna be alright though."

A short woman came to Diana's side. Slightly more robust, she appeared as someone who had been on the job longer than many had been alive. "Agent Skouris, Baldwin. I'm Agent Forbes, I was on the NTAC detail assigned to watch Shawn Ferrell." Her southern accent could not be mistaken

"Didn't work out too well did it?" Tom quipped, getting to his feet.

"The assassin thing kind of caught us off guard, we'll admit it. But our assignment was to keep our distance, and _observe_ his movements... that was it." She shot back.

Tom was unyielding: "I want detailed reports from everyone, on my desk by three 'o clock today."

"Agent Forbes," Diana ignored the woman's cold look to her partner and continued, "can you give us an idea of a timeline from your team's perspective."

"We rotated around five thirty. Followed them through and out of Kinnear park. They carried on walking until they found a diner, Macy's, it's just up the block. That was around seven. They got cozy, ate breakfast, left at about eight fifteen, and walked straight here."

"Where was your team in relation to them?

She blew out her cheeks in thought. "One there." Forbes pointed to the outside window of a nearby delicatessan shop. "One there." She pointed much further down the block. "Two in a sedan and I was a few meters behind them."

"You didn't see anything? Anyone suspicious?" Tom asked. Forbes shook her head, still giving him a rather sour look.

As he and Diana continued to take in the crime scene, Forbes piped up. "I've never seen any of those 4400 do anything, with my own eyes that is. After seeing this all today, I don't know what to think anymore. It was frightening and amazing at the same time, watching that boy cheat death. Suddenly, it was like the rules of life didn't apply to him anymore. And that light show that the girl pulled. Heat so intense you could imagine the pavement go soft and melt right from underneath them.

_888_

"Morning, princess." Anäis opened her eyes to the sound of his voice. "You had us a little worried for a while there" Jin had made himself comfortable on one of the hospital chairs in her private room. The blinds had been drawn and the only light that filled the room came from above the instruments monitoring her. The young man walked to the side of the bed and flashed a smile that seemed strained. He looked tired, a look she wasn't used to seeing him with. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I've just been shot." She quipped. With much effort, she tried to sit up, but was forced back down by him.

He shook his head. "Not just yet."

"The damage must be bad if you're this attentive." Talking took a lot out of her, but she felt she needed it.

"No, but it has given me an excuse to take care of you... It'll earn me legendary status at Apollo." She flipped a brow his way. "You're kidding right? Anäis Daaé needing someone to take care of her? Not even on her worst day."

She laughed, much to her disdain. "I've been through worse." Anäis smiled.

"I can believe that. I heard you refused pain killers while they were removing the bullet, that's no mean feat."

With a shrug: "Never liked them, they cloud the mind. Not the best of ideas considering my ability." He tucked her sheets comfortably around her. "You look worse than I feel. What happened, late night partying again?"

"Not quite. But I did get a good twenty minutes sleep before you decided to get shot. No rest for the wicked." He pulled a cell phone from his jacket pocket. "He wants to speak to you." Nodding, Anäis took it, with an expression not entirely filled with glee. Jin leant over and kissed her gently on the cheek. "I'm glad you're okay." With another flash of his playboy smile, he left the room.

_888_

_4400 Center_

Shawn leant against the frame of one of the large windows of his office, arm propping him up. Four days had passed since the assassination attempt, and yet still, everything felt surreal somehow. Jordan and the team he'd put in place were handling the press while he recovered. No one he'd ever healed needed recovery time, but Jordan was convinced that, this instance being different, it was something that was very necessary. Shawn had been watching the storm clouds forming in the distance as he thought. Someone had found him enough of a threat to warrant killing him... That was a thought worth chewing over. A flash of Anäis falling with him filled his mind. It was the second time she'd been hurt because of him. He was a dangerous man to be involved with; perhaps that was why she had disappeared from the hospital without a trace, and severed all contact with him.

A sudden comotion drew him out of his thoughts. Tom Baldwin stormed in, followed by Diana and finally a gasping Amy entered. "I'm sorry Mr. Farrell, but they wouldn't listen..."

"It's alright Amy." He smiled. With a nod, she left. "Uncle Tom" They hugged, as honest and sincere as they did before the 4400 ever became a reality.

Tom pulled back and took a good look at Shawn. "Good to see you Shawn." The emotion was caught there in his words.

"Hi Diana." Shawn greeted, gesturing for them to take a seat. "What can I do for you guys?"

"We're building a profile of your shooter. We were hoping you could provide us with a list of possible suspects to work with." Diana answered.

With a laugh: "That list would be a mile long Diana, you guys should know that by now. I have no secret enemies, it's all out in the open."

"No recent threats?" Asked Tom.

"Nothing... this was completely unexpected. Well, I guess most assasinations are." He chuckled, rubbing his hand along his jeans. "Anything else?"

Tom bit his lip for a moment, locking eyes with Shawn. "I don't want Collier taking matters into his own hands. We'll find whoever did this to you Shawn, I promise you that. We just need the time to do our jobs properly."

"Yeah, I get it Uncle Tommy." He stood and held out his hand. "Do what you need to do."

_888_

Tom looked over to Diana, indicating right as they left the 4400 compound. The soft sounds of the radio drowned out the silence and the gentle drum of rain against the windows."You okay Diana? You were pretty quiet back there?" She looked out of the window, biting her nails as she so rarely did. It was an old habit that she'd kicked as a kid, but every so often, she'd subconsciously slip. "Diana?"

"Huh?" She turned to him, still deep in thought it would seem and began: "Something that Agent Forbes said to us got me thinking: We never solved the Mercantile case... none of the 4400 in our database had the abilities that might be able to cause that kind of damage."

"Okay?"

"Heat so intense it could melt the pavement, or something to that effect... That's what Forbes said. I think that this Anäis could be the 4400 we're looking for."

Tom nodded. "We'll get back to NTAC and see if we can pull up an address."

_-In headlines today: The group, previously dubbed 'The Elite', held a press conference earlier today, introducing key figures within the operation now verified as Apollo House. Seemingly overnight press releases about the operation as well as one-on-one interviews with co-directors Michael Potente and Anäis Daaé have hit shelves, and news segments are sweeping the airwaves with the intentions of these 4400. Apollo House has also expressed their desire for transparency to the public and the involvement of 4400 and non-4400 alike._

Diana lowered the volume. "Well, I guess that's going to be easier than we thought."

_888_

Anäis closed the door to her office, and made her way to the couch against the wall. She was moving slowly, in pain. "Still haven't managed to get yourself to full capacity? You're slipping." Michael grinned. He had an increasingly disturbing habit of sneaking up on her. Either her keen powers of observation were fading, or he knew every trick in her book well enough to make himself invisible... Either way, it was unnerving.

"With the media circus that you stirred up, I haven't time to myself Michael, you know that. It hasn't even been a week since the shooting." She gently placed herself on the couch, grasping at the arm rest tightly.

"I remember when it would take no more than a few hours." Michael sat at her side, motioning for her to rest on him.

"Then you must also remember the destructive effect I had on my surroundings... _jamais encore._" Her last words were a whisper as she curled up and rested her head on his chest. "Do you really believe that this will work?"

He nodded to himself. "With everything that I am. I see this world being steered straight into oblivion... and I know that with me at the helm, that won't happen. The free world needs a leader in control, willing to make the sacrifices necessary to ensure our survival, it needs me. We're going to make it happen, I have no doubt about it." Minutes of silence passed as he stroked her hair, lost in his own thoughts. "Anäis?"

She mumbled groggily in response.

"Why Shawn?" She didn't answer, but Michael knew she had heard. "You have admirers at Apollo, many of whom are better suited to you."

"Michael, please drop this."

"Has he even hit puberty yet?"

Anäis got up, arms folded, back turned. "Why do you continue to bring up a subject that I have assured you is in the past."

"Your assurances with regards to this boy mean nothing to me. They're empty words. What ever is happening between the two of you is effecting your judgement, derailing our attempts at remaining scandal free and very nearly got you killed." He stood, moving toward her back. "If it's sex you're after, grab a man, who I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding, and get it out of your system." Anäis turned and slapped him, moving more quickly, with her injuries, than even she anticipated.

_Knock. Knock._

A greying man pulled open the double doors and lead in, followed by Tom and Diana. Both Anäis and Michael had no problems appearing as though nothing was amiss, they were used to having to fake their way in and out of new situations. "Agent Baldwin, Agent Skouris, how can we help you?" Michael asked, extending a hand and greeting them both in kind.

"We're just here to ask Anäis a few questions." Diana answered, looking straight over to the woman.

"Very well. Thank you Walter," She smiled, "and Michael... could you please give us a moment?" Though her voice was seemingly submissive, her eyes were not. Perhaps, had they not fought only a minute earlier, he would've ignored her request and sat in on the meeting... but he didn't. He nodded to her and said his goodbyes, leaving with Walter. "Is there something I can get you? Coffee? Tea?"

"No thanks." Smiled Tom.

"Ms. Daaé, as you know we're from NTAC, while we are investgating the shooting that took place earlier this week, we'd just like to ask you a couple of questions that might not seem relevant to you. We'd like to ask you to answer them honestly with as much detail as you can." Diana explained. Anäis seemed comfortable with it, and agreed. "This is a nice place you have here, Apollo House. Who started it?"

"It was largely Michael's doing. I assisted and over time it just seemed the logical thing for him to share the overflow of work with me."

"The group you've assembled hasn't been around for too long, this building even shorter than that." Tom said.

Anäis shrugged. "It made sense. Many of the 4400 who joined us had lost their homes, or were no longer wanted in them. We needed to stay together, and we couldn't have done that without finding a place of our own."

"Where did you, or Mr. Potente, get the money to put this whole thing up?"

"I'm not exactly sure Agent Baldwin. I know that Michael came from money, and that he has friends in high places. I never really found myself involved or even interested in the business side of things." She showed no signs of discomfort, unreadable, even to the seasoned eyes of the two investigators.

"Ms. Daaé, could you please explain to my partner and I, exactly what your ability is?" Asked Diana.

Anäis looked at her curiously. "I can convert energy."

"Into what exactly?"

"Why does it matter?

Tom: "We're just curious."

"No, you're fishing for something." She forced a smile to both of them. "I would be happy to continue this conversation with the presence of a lawyer. No hard feelings, but I'd prefer to be cautious." Anäis shook hands as the agents readied to leave. "Agent Baldwin... may I have a word with you please? In private?"

Tom looked from her to Diana, and gave a short nod. He watched as his partner left the room, closing the door behind her. "What is it you want to talk to me about?"

"Shawn. You're kin, _non_?" Tom nodded, waiting for her to continue. "Have you seen him since, the incident?"

"I have."

"How is he?"

"Shouldn't you be asking _him_ this?" Tom hadn't meant for the statement to come out as aggresively as it had, he was just curious as to why the apparent couple had not seen each other after a traumatic experience like the shooting. "He's fine." He saw a chance then, a small chip in her armour as she thought on the man in question. "Anäis, if you're in something here that you can't get out of, you can tell me, I can help."

"Thank you, Agent Baldwin." Anäis held open the door. Barely a moment after he left, her office phone rang. "Anäis Daaé." She answered. Her expression turned serious as she listened to the voice on the other end.

_End._

* * *

Next: _Brave Old World_


End file.
